He Would Be There
by Casy Dee
Summary: AU...What if Jack had met an untimely end? Connor is desperate to be there for Abby...if she will only let him. With appearances by: Sweet!Connor, Compasionate!Connor and....Angry!Connor!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do hope you like this. It is set right before "the kiss." (What **_**is **_**it with my stories and kisses?)**

**Premise is an AU, what if Jack met an untimely end?**

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**He Would Be There**

**Chapter 1**

Connor was stumbling over his words. He tried to speak coherently, he tried…but with Abby staring down at him with a look on her face that he had only _thought_ he might have glimpsed before ...and his brain had short circuited. He grew frustrated with himself, mentally kicked himself as he felt this rare opportunity to _tell her_ slipping away because he was an idiot and he couldn't form a complete sentence. Sometimes he hated himself. And then…

"Shut up." From Abby.

And she kissed him softly. He would have been happy with that light brush of lips…but then she had done the completely unexpected and had burrowed her fingers into his hair and kissed him again…soft and sweet and not like 'thanks mate' but more like…_something._ Like it meant _something._ It was beautiful and wonderful and more than he had ever imagined. And then she was gone. He couldn't help the stab of fierce joy…who knew that covering up for her self-centered pratt of a brother could gain him something like this? He just didn't want her to be hurt. He supposed he owed Jack for that.

He started packing up the rest of his equipment in a daze, wondering what the kiss meant. What he should do, if he should do anything or just let Abby tell him what it meant. Should he ask her out? Dinner or a drink or…he was out of his element. He didn't know what to do. He just knew that something crucial had shifted between them. It would never be the same…he hoped it was a good thing.

The screaming sound of sirens cut through the soporific daze he had been floating in. Sirens were never good. Concerned, he made his way towards the sound.

First he saw blood. There was so much blood…his heart clenched painfully. Where was Abby? Panicked, he strode towards the ambulance and ARC personnel standing outside the hangar. Becker was motioning people back; a blanket lay over a still form in the middle of the pool of red. Black tire marks…hit by a car? A trainer clad foot was partially uncovered. He couldn't help the sigh of relief. Not Abby.

Then Abby was there, stumbling towards the ambulance numbly. She had come at the sound of the sirens just as he did. Suddenly he knew. He recognized the trainer. Oh god…he had to get to Abby before she saw. He didn't want her to see the blood. He didn't want her to see the still form under the blanket. He didn't want her to carry the image with her…and she would.

He sprinted to her, intercepting her and grabbing her by her shoulders.

"Don't look Abby, please." He begged.

She looked up at him blankly. "Who?"

He swallowed and said the hardest thing he'd ever had to say to her. It made his earlier bumbling attempts to tell her how he felt seem easy in comparison. He didn't want to be the one to tell her. He didn't want to be in this memory that would be forever seared into her brain. He knew…he understood…but he had to do it.

"Jack." He answered.

Her face drained of color and he died a little as he saw the overwhelming tide of disbelief, and then grief wash over her. She moved past him, but he held her firm. Not fast enough. She saw the body on the ground.

"No." Abby said, her voice weak and frail.

"Sorry Abby, god I'm so sorry." Connor said, his heart breaking for her.

"But how?" She whispered.

It hadn't quite sunk in yet. She still wore the mask of stunned disbelief. He knew Abby, when it did, it would be bad. It wasn't fair. They had just got him back.

"Hit by a car…I don't know how. Just…you don't need to see, okay?" He answered.

He saw it sinking in. He pulled her to him, enfolding her in his arms. She sobbed once, the cry torn from her throat. Then she screamed, a heart wrenching bone deep scream of agony. She pounded at his chest; he let her. Her small fists landing in a series of staccato blows. Danny and Becker watched from a distance. He had shaken his head at them when they had started to come over. Abby wouldn't want that. She screamed and railed and he tried to hold her close. She didn't want to be held…she wanted to beat her fists in rage until the pain burning her alive subsided. He understood that, too.

If she needed hit someone, he would rather it be him. If it wasn't him, she would be hitting herself…hurting herself. Connor could take it, wanted to take it for her. Anything for her. She scored a blow to his jaw, one to his mouth and he tasted blood, but he took it stoically. Her anger was dimming to be replaced by desolation. Now she let him hold her.

For long moments he cradled her to his chest as she sobbed. He didn't know if he had a right to murmur words of love and comfort to her, to press kisses to her hair and hold her if she was his lover and not just his friend…but he did it anyway. She needed him, and he would be there. He would.

After she had calmed, he steered her towards Danny, his arm around her shoulder. She clung to him still.

"Danny, can someone take us home? I need to get her home." Connor asked.

He got her into the flat…she hadn't spoken. Silent, still and quiet and so _not_ Abby. He sat her down on the couch. She stayed where he placed her. He asked if she wanted water, or tea or anything at all but she didn't speak. She stared straight ahead, her eyes unseeing and empty. He had seen that look before, and it scared him. He was going to ask her if he should stay or go, but that look on her face convinced him that he should not give her the option. He was staying.

He turned on the telly to have some noise to fill the silence. Abby didn't even seem to notice. He sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders cautiously, carefully…but she just leaned into him a little bit. He settled into the corner of the couch and pulled her back to rest against him, his arms around her. She allowed it. He would have never dared this before, but it wasn't about anything other than trying to give comfort to the woman he loved. He had no ulterior motive; he just wanted her to stop hurting.

The dirt and grime and dried blood still clung to them both, but he was afraid to leave her alone to wash up. He closed his eyes and held her close. He was worn out and exhausted; it was no wonder that he fell asleep.

When he next opened his eyes it was dark outside. Abby was no longer next to him on the couch and he had to fight down a surge of panic. He faintly heard the shower going and relaxed slightly. That was good, that Abby was up and moving of her own volition. She was tough; she could get through this. He went to the kitchen and made tea for them both. Perhaps he could convince her to have something to eat as well.

He had drunk down his tea, and hers had long gone cold. He didn't want to interrupt her, but she had been in the shower a long time. A very long time. Another twenty minutes passed and he knew he had to go and check on her. He stood outside the door to the bathroom and knocked.

"Abby…are you alright?" He called out loud enough to be heard over the water.

She didn't answer. He called out her name again. No answer.

A trickle of cold sweat ran down his spine. A scene like this…his hand banging on the door. His mother lying on the floor, a spilled bottle of pills in her hand. He had tried to wake her but she didn't wake. The ambulance had come for her and he was glad that the dispatcher recognized that a panicked boy wouldn't have the presence of mind to ask for a paramedic to come along on the ambulance. She had lived, he had been in time…but it was a near thing. He had left her almost too long. It wouldn't happen like that with Abby. No.

"Abby, if you don't answer me I am coming in." He called, his voice hard and frightened at the same time.

No answer.

He turned the handle. Locked. He gave a sharp kick and the door swung open. She would be angry about the door, but he didn't care.

The water was running but he didn't see her behind the shower curtain. His heart seized again. He tore away the shower curtain and there she was…curled up in the tub with the freezing cold water pouring over her still form. Her eyes were clenched shut and she was sobbing. Deep, bone wrenching sobs that shook her whole body. But she was alive.

He shut off the taps and grabbed a towel to wrap her in. She was wet and naked and at that moment all he could think about was that his precious Abby was cold and broken. He tried to get her to come out of the tub but she wouldn't move. He lifted her out and sat her down on the mat. He draped a towel around her shoulders and pulled out another to dry her hair. She was so cold. He dried her off as gently as he could.

She met his gaze suddenly, her eyes finally focusing. She gave another one of those heart wrenching hiccupping sobs and buried her face in his neck, her arms coming around him. She didn't seem to realize that she was wet and naked and clinging to him, but to be honest, Connor didn't care…not then. Not in this situation. He had one of those odd errant thoughts that seemed to pop up at inappropriate times. _This figures that I would finally get Abby naked and sex is the farthest thing from both our minds._

He held her until she stopped sobbing again. It was a while, but he didn't care. Whatever she needed, whatever it took. He tried to get her up and moving after her tears had stopped, but she had descended into numb immobility again. He had to get her warm, dressed, and into her bed. He wrapped her in the towels as best he could and then lifted her in his arms.

She was lighter than he would have thought. Abby was so full of life and presence and strength that she should have weighed more. She seemed to take up more space normally…she was a tiny little thing but her personality made her seem so much larger. She was tiny and delicate and easy for him to carry. Not like Cutter had been. But Abby was still alive and damn it she was going to stay that way. He just had to convince her she needed to live. He had to.

He laid her down on her bed and looked through her things for something to put on her. His face burned as he pulled out a pair of her knickers, but he figured what he had already seen was far past that. Soft flannel pajama bottoms and a vest. He's seen her wear them before…her comfortable sleeping clothes. He dressed her as quickly and as carefully as possible. If his hands were shaking and he was overly clumsy…well, Abby didn't complain. She just stared at the ceiling and it _scared_ him.

He got her dressed and tucked into her bed. He was afraid to leave her. Connor's hoodie and t-shirt were dirty and wet from her body. He pulled them off, swiping the t-shirt over his face to remove most of the grit and grime. He took off his boots and socks, but left on his jeans. Comatose or no, Abby wouldn't appreciate waking up next to him clad only in his underpants.

He lay next to her on her bed, on top of the covers at first. He had left the small lamp near her bed on so the room wasn't left in total darkness. He shivered. Abby moved the blanket down, her small hand closing on his arm, pulling him closer. He slid under the blankets gratefully. Abby shifted and laid her head on his chest. He swallowed hard and a tear slipped from his eye. He understood. He did. He wished someone had done this for him.

He knew Abby would be angry when she snapped out of this daze. He knew it, because he knew Abby. Abby didn't want anyone to see that she had feelings, that she could be hurt. She would be enraged that he had seen her so vulnerable. It was silly. She had a tender heart; one only had to watch her with animals to see that. But that was Abby.

Until then, he was glad that she had accepted what comfort he could provide. He loved her so much that it hurt; he wished he could just take the pain away. He couldn't…but he could stay with her.

TBC

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**A/N: So I have a few ideas to get at Jack. I don't like him. Not one bit. I think he gets off a bit easy in this fic…it's not so much about Jack as it is Connor.**

**Length of this one? Hmm a couple of chapters at least I think, dependent upon interest.**

**Hope you like this, and if you do…please review. It feeds the muse…muse gets so hungry. Seriously, it motivates me to write. And thanks for reading :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hope you enjoy a little backstory action…**

**To those of you that reviewed, thank you so much! You like to read, I like to write…I like to write more when I have reviews to read :) It's a happy balance. Please feed the muse… (and thanks to those that favorited :) )**

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Chapter 2

Connor woke as Abby slid from the bed. He followed her with his eyes as she left the room, listened as her feet padded away to the loo. He passed a hand over his face and got out of bed. He hoped that Abby was better today. He made his way to what used to be his bedroom, unsure of if it was still his. The thought made him uncomfortable, but he didn't entertain the thought of asking Abby. Not right now. She could always kick him out again later, anyway.

Jack's things were spread out everywhere; the room was an even bigger mess than it was when Connor lived there. He sat down on the bed and called Danny; they would need a couple of days at least. Danny had been through this himself, sort of. He would take care of it.

Danny told Connor to take as much time as they needed. He would contact them if there was an anomaly, but barring that, they were not expected to come in. He explained that Jack had just walked directly in the path of one of the security vehicles that day. The man had tried to stop, but Jack had stepped out from in between two cars and he didn't have time. There was just no way to avoid hitting him. It had been a terrible accident…but it was an accident. That wouldn't matter to Abby though. She would blame herself…he had.

Connor checked under the bed, the small box was still there, apparently undisturbed. Connor pulled the box out from underneath the bed and opened it carefully. He moved the stack of comic books and then opened up the smaller box hidden inside the larger one. He felt the familiar grief reach up and grip his chest painfully as he stared down at the remnants of a life he used to have. Three death certificates…father, sister, brother. Same day, same cause of death. He picked up Brigid's teddy bear and held it to his chest. He thought the tears were gone…used up by now, but the thought of Brigid still brought them back like it was fresh and new.

She had adored him…followed him everywhere. He knew as an older brother he wasn't supposed to like it when she followed him, but he had been securely wrapped around her little finger. She had been curly haired and blonde, but she had the same deep brown eyes they shared with their mother and an identical dimple in her left cheek. She was only three years old. He could still hear her little voice sometimes. He missed her.

Desmond had only been a year older than he, but they were different as night and day. Desmond had been outgoing and athletic; he was sure to be a professional footballer. Tall and broad like Dad had been, and he had always looked after Connor. He had kept the other kids from picking on him too badly; if they did he would sort them out. Connor never made fun of Desmond's struggles with school, and helped him pass his lessons. It evened out in the end, he'd always thought. But once Desmond was gone…well. He had no idea how bad it could be.

Connor had never gotten along with his father…and now he never would be able to make amends. They didn't understand each other. About the only thing they shared was a certain cheerful optimism about life; his father was always smiling, even if the ones directed towards Connor were strained and awkward. His father and Desmond, they had been two of a kind. Connor was more like his mother, and he always felt like that was a disappointment to his Dad. Small and weak, interested in books and science and much too bright to have an easy childhood. Once Connor had started building things, his dad had begun to spend more time with him. It was something his father understood...tinkering, building things. He was just starting to enjoy it…Sundays with his dad, tinkering…and then it had happened.

He couldn't find his medicine, and his allergies were driving him mad. His mum had told the rest of the family to go on. She and Connor would meet them later after they stopped by to get a refill of his script for him. The game was going to start and she didn't want the rest of the family to miss it. If they would have left on time…it would have never happened.

The memory was seared into his brain. His mum had found his medicine, and they left a couple of minutes after the rest of the family. He clenched his eyes shut as the memory assaulted him. They had been first on the scene. First to see the blood mixing with petrol and oil and antifreeze. First to see Brigid, thrown from the car. He choked back a sob and stuffed the ragged bear back in the box. He couldn't touch it any longer. She was only three. It wasn't fair.

He stuffed the letters from the 'hospital' where his mum now lived back inside the box without reading them. After repeated attempts at suicide, it was deemed safer to keep her there. She wasn't functioning anymore. She had been a successful biomedical engineer, and they had been close. They shared their love of science and knowledge along with their small frame, dark hair and eyes and deep dimple. Her letters to him were few…and depressing. He hadn't read them in a long time, and he didn't want to face them now. His mum had never recovered…he'd had to go live with cousins, and then his Gran for a little bit (no electricity…hated that). She had left him to deal with it on his own. He had been so alone. Here with Abby, he had finally felt as if he had a home again. Until she kicked him out. But it was her brother…how could he say no?

Connor's mum had never forgiven him…at least, that's what Connor surmised. If they would have left on time…his family would have never been shattered. He knew it wasn't his fault, but logic and the heart don't always communicate with the other. He knew Abby would be feeling the same way. He didn't wasn't to watch her spiraling downward…like his mum did. He closed the box and covered it with the edge of the blanket. He'd pack it back up properly later, but he wanted to grab a change of clothes and get back to Abby.

He put his mind to the task at hand; he moved to where he kept his clothes, pulled out a clean pair of jeans, boxers, and a long sleeved t-shirt, sparing little thought for what he was wearing. He just wanted something clean that didn't smell of blood and smoke and a world he hoped never came to exist. He hurried back down to Abby, still afraid to leave her on her own for any length of time.

She sat at the kitchen table. He put the kettle on for them both, unsure of how to act now that she was up and around on her own. The silence stretched between them, awkward and empty. She hadn't looked at him; she hadn't moved. The knots in his belly tightened…she wasn't better at all. Not one bit. He set the cup of tea in front of her before taking the seat next to her at the table. He watched her through lowered lashes, trying for discreet.

She took a sip of the tea. Cheered and encouraged, he looked up to meet her eyes. She looked right through him; she wasn't seeing him. Her body might be here next to him but her mind was far away. He refused to be discouraged; it was a step, although a baby one.

"I could make you summit to eat. You should eat." He said hesitantly.

She shook her head mutely. Helpless, frustrated and sad, he just sat with her. Abby was giving up, and it didn't suit her. She was a fighter through and through, but she had said Jack was all she had left of her family. Connor knew that everyone had a breaking point, little fault lines on the soul. He hoped he was not witnessing Abby fracturing; he didn't know if he could bear it. He couldn't stand to see her falter, not Abby. She was scaring him again.

"Abby? Please?" He tried again.

She focused on him finally, her crystalline blue eyes clearing for a moment of lucidity. He breathed a sigh of relief. She was still in there somewhere. His tough as nails Abby was in there.

Her mouth formed a snarl and she threw the cup at his head. He ducked it, barely. She stormed off to her room and slammed the door behind her. Connor followed after he recovered from the shock of it, but not fast enough. The lock clicked. Connor leaned his forehead against the door; she was crying again, and this time she locked him out. He closed his eyes, wished she would let him help her. The sounds of her sobs pulled at his heart, choked him. He pressed his hands flat against the door.

"Abby? Abby, please let me in. Please?" He begged.

She ignored him. She wouldn't forgive another broken door. Perhaps if he let her be for a while she would come around.

"Abby…I'm here…okay? Just…I just want you to know." He called out to her.

She didn't acknowledge it, and he tried not to be hurt.

He waited for her to unlock the door, or to come out for a couple of hours. If she didn't answer him or come out soon, he _would _go in after her. It didn't come to that. She came out to use the loo again, and when she made her way back to the bedroom, he was there.

"I want to help, Abby. Don't shut me out." He pleaded.

She looked at him blankly and shouldered past him and lay on the bed. He sat down next to her and held her hand. It was a small thing…but it felt important. He hoped that it was because she wanted him there and not due to apathy. An hour later and he was convinced it was apathy.

"Abby…you need to eat. Can you eat for me?" Connor gently asked.

Abby nodded slightly and sat up. It cheered him to see her respond to him, however slightly. She made her way to the kitchen slowly, moving as if in a dream. She sat and stared up at him. He moved to find something to feed her from the refrigerator. Leftover pizza and leftover curry take away…he went with the take away. Abby loved Vindaloo; it might entice her more than anything else. He heated it and set it down in front of her, sitting opposite.

His stomach growled, but he would eat later…after he had seen to Abby. She took exactly four bites before she pushed the food away. Concerned, he tried to get her to eat more.

"Abby. Another few bites?" He cajoled.

She shook her head in the negative.

"Please? I know you are hurting. Believe me, I know. But don't give up okay?" He pleaded.

Her lips thinned and her jaw clenched. This wasn't having the effect he had hoped, but he wanted _something_ other than this numb, empty shell that had been haunting their flat masquerading as Abby…even if it was anger. He understood the anger…understood its purpose, even.

"Abby? I know it hurts. I'm sorry, I am…but you have got to go on…as hard as it is. Jack wouldn't want this." He continued.

"You know? You can't. You CAN'T!" Abby screamed.

Connor flinched. "Abby…I'm just trying to…"

She jumped up from the table, fury radiating off of her in waves. Connor stood, backpedaled in the face of her rage. His back hit the counter and he froze; she continued to advance on him. He raised his hands defensively, but it did nothing to deflect the vicious blows from her small fists or her sharp tongue.

"He was ALL I HAD! He was my only family and he's gone! He's dead! And you think you can make everything like it was? You think you can help me? You can't even help yourself you pathetic…excuse for a man!" She railed.

He understood her anger. He did. But it didn't make it hurt any less. Her words stung him deeply, much worse than her fists.

"I don't want you here! Get out!" She yelled.

There was no way. No way he could leave her all alone when she was like this. No matter what it ended up costing him…he would stay with her. She might hate him for seeing her so vulnerable, but he would rather her hate him than to be dead.

"No. I'm not leaving you alone until I'm sure you are okay." He argued.

She reared back and punched him in the jaw, full force. He staggered, lost his footing and fell. She was on him in a heartbeat…screaming and hitting him. Her words blurred together, but he understood what she said. She said she would never be okay. Again and again, she repeated it.

She stopped hitting him, slid away a few feet and leaned her head to her knees and sobbed. Connor wiped the blood from his mouth (_again_) and crept up next to her. He laid a cautious hand on her back, rubbed small circles across it. She allowed it.

"It will get better. I promise." He said softly.

"You don't know what it's like." She whispered.

It made him angry…her assumptions. He pushed it down, hid it away like he always did.

"How do you know? I understand better than you might think." He replied evenly.

She lifted her head to look at him. She gave a deep sigh. Her expression softened.

"Conn…you look awful." She said after a few moments.

He shrugged, lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile.

"I'm sorry. I know you are trying to help." She apologized.

She lifted her hand to his bloodied lip, a bruise on his cheek. She had even torn his shirt, but he didn't mind. She was looking and acting like his Abby again. She took a deep shuddering breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again some of the strength he was used to seeing in her was back. She stood up, and offered him a hand up as well.

"Conn…you need to shower, eat something. I'm okay, honest." She assured him.

He felt dirty and grimy, exhausted and still hungry. She _seemed_ okay.

"I'll eat if you do." He bargained.

She shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

"Me neither." He stated, his eyebrows rose challengingly.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. He polished off the pizza, and he got Abby to eat most of her plate of Vindaloo. He eyed her carefully, she was subdued and quiet…the sadness and grief clung to her still, but he thought she wasn't a danger to herself any longer. He might be able to chance a shower.

He took what was likely the fastest shower he had ever taken, and he even left the door open a crack in case Abby needed him. He hung up the towel neatly, not wanting to upset Abby any more than she already was. He even straightened up a bit, rinsing out the sink and wiping down the mirror. He caught his reflection and he had to agree with Abby. He looked terrible. He dressed again and headed to his (was it his again?) room for some clean socks.

Abby was sitting on his (Jack's?) bed…and she had Brigid's bear in her hands. Cold and then heat flashed through him…she had no right. None.

**TBC**

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A/N: Well I hope you liked this one…Connor kept yelling at me to write it. Please let me know what you think…it means the world.

**Musical inspiration for this story is The One, by Soil.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So here is the final installment. I truly hope you enjoy this chapter…it was work! Seriously wrestled with it, but I think I am happy with the final outcome. Hope you like it.**

**Thanks for reviewing! I love them! Seriously helps motivate me to write, so thank you!**

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Chapter 3

She had Brigid's bear in her hands, the death certificates on the bed next to her, the letters still in their envelopes (thankfully) spread across the bed. He hoped she hadn't read them. There were a few old photos, too…and from the looks of it she had been into those as well. He was furious that she would invade his privacy like this. It was a blatant lack of respect for him, or his things, and it rankled. He thought she cared more for him than that.

"What are you doing in my things?" Connor asked, his voice shaking with barely suppressed rage.

Abby looked up at him and paled.

"I was just…" She began.

"Just what? Invading my privacy? You had no right!" He railed.

"And put that down!" He shouted, gesturing at Brigid's bear.

She set it down inside the box, but then she stood…vibrating with her own anger.

"First off…this is _my_ flat. I didn't know that box was yours until I had opened it." She seethed.

"And then I see you closed it right up?" He bit back, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Once again…_my flat._" She sniped.

"You think that little of me, eh? That it doesn't matter if you just…go through things that are private? You had no right to do it, and you know it!" He argued, his eyes narrowed and jaw set.

"I had no right?" She asked, outraged.

"No." He snapped.

"I had as much right as you did following me here! I didn't want you here! I didn't ask you to come! You don't live here anymore." She countered, her voice rising in anger.

He flinched at her last statement; she smiled tightly as her jab scored a deep hit on him.

"You just butted in, uninvited. So don't tell me I have no right." She argued, coldly.

"It's not the same thing. What the hell was I supposed to do? Leave you all alone?" He countered.

"Yes!" Abby cried.

He tried to make her see, make her understand. She wouldn't see. She was so stubborn, and he was still so angry at her but this was Abby and she was hurting and after all she hadn't been digging into his things…he'd left it out. She never had gone into his things, not in three years. It was just that when he saw her there with her hands on Brigid's bear…something inside of him had snapped.

"Yes, I wanted to be left alone! And you…" She fumed.

"What?" He yelled.

"You won't leave me be! Look what I did to you, and you still won't go." She said, her voice breaking as she gestured towards his bruised face.

She didn't sound quite as angry anymore, it was tinged with sadness. Abby's moods were mercurial at the best of times, and this was far from the best of times.

"I don't care about that, and I'm not leaving you alone…not like this." He insisted.

He was having a hard time holding on to his outrage, especially when he saw the tears welling up in her eyes. This was his Abby, and she was crying. His heart clenched in his chest at the sight of her tears.

"Just go, before I do something worse." She pleaded.

He usually gave in to her, but not this time. He loved her too much. He would take anything she threw at him, but on this he would not back down.

"No, I can't. I was all alone…and I'm not doing that to you." He avowed fiercely.

Abby was angry again, her mood shifting and ever changeable; her eyes flashed and her lips formed a snarl. She advanced on him and he had to fight back the reaction to flinch. She saw it anyway. His jaw clenched as he tried to stand firm in the face of Abby's anger, but a hot tear slipped down his cheek, and then another. He'd not let her go through what he had. No matter how furious she was, or how cutting her words became.

"Why?" She cried out, frustrated and angry.

"Because I love you!" He choked out.

He froze; he didn't mean to say it. Not like this, when they were screaming at each other. Abby was staring at him, shocked into silence. She took another step towards him, closing the space between them. She was close now…he felt her breath on his skin. She looked into his eyes, reached out her hand to his face. He trembled as she brushed her fingertips over the bruise on his jaw, and then dug her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his head down to hers. She kissed him softly at first, and then Connor wrapped her tightly into his arms and deepened it.

Need and pain rose up in him; he crushed her small body to his as desire and instinct took over his logic. Abby responded in kind, losing herself in him. He broke away finally, gasping for breath. Abby was crying…why was Abby crying? It damped the desire that had swelled up inside of him like a bucket of ice water.

"What's? Why? Did I?" He stammered, trying to understand yet another sudden shift in mood.

She buried her face in his chest, clung to him and cried helplessly. He held her there, rubbing circles on her back and pressing kisses to her hair once again. He sank down onto the bed, pulling her into his lap. She allowed it, and wrapped her arms around him to hold on to him tightly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Abby murmured.

Connor shushed her and held her close.

"It's alright. I understand…" He consoled.

At this, Abby started crying harder.

"Why did you never tell me?" She asked softly, when her sobs subsided.

"Did you ask?" He chided gently.

"No." She admitted.

"But I was afraid if I asked you, I would have to tell you about my family…I don't like to talk about it." She divulged.

"You don't have to, Abby." He replied softly.

She nodded against him.

"Connor? Would you tell me about them?" She asked.

She had tilted her head up to look at him; he still found it hard to deny her anything. He didn't want to talk about it, but he thought maybe it was what Abby needed right now.

He sighed. "Yes. I'll tell you."

She slid from his lap self-consciously and began to gather the papers on the bed and place them back into the box on the floor. He began to gather the pictures; his hand stilled over a family portrait…the last one they'd ever taken together. He usually avoided looking at the pictures.

"You don't have to, Connor." She said, an unconscious echo of his earlier words.

He nodded silently. It meant something…that concession from Abby. She knew that he could hardly refuse her anything. He continued gathering the pictures, and this time he avoided looking at them.

"Connor…all those things I said…I didn't mean them." She apologized.

He nodded again. She snagged his hand.

"Look at me." She demanded.

"I don't think you are pathetic…" She begun.

He gave a derisive snort. Most days he felt pretty pathetic.

"Connor, you are the strongest man I know, the sweetest, and you have the best heart…I'm the pathetic one for attacking you when you were just trying to help me. I'm sorry, Connor." She said softly.

He gaped at her, trying to understand the words. He nodded, finally. She was still holding his hand. She pulled his thumb out of the hole in the seam of his shirt sleeve so she could see his bare hand. She traced her fingertips over his palm; he shivered.

" 'S okay…" He replied.

"No. It isn't. I'm…I'm not good with feelings. I got scared…and I pushed you further and further away the more…" She paused and swallowed hard.

He stopped breathing. She was holding his hand, tracing her fingers across his palm and looking at him with something in her eyes that he never thought to see there. Hope and fear and love filled him…so full it hurt. And he was scared to move, scared to breathe, and scared to stop her from saying what he thought she just maybe might be saying to him.

She closed her eyes tightly and then opened them again.

"The more I fell in love with you." She finished softly.

He saw fear in her eyes, and it didn't seem right. Abby was fearless…nothing scared her, but this admission did. Even knowing that he loved her too…it scared her. He bent his head to hers slowly this time, giving her time to move away. She didn't…she tilted her head towards him, invited him in. He kissed her softly, trying to show her that there was nothing to be scared of…not from him. He wouldn't take more than she was willing to give. When they broke apart again she gave him a fragile smile.

"Mum and Dad, they died when we were real young. I don't really remember them." Abby said softly.

It was an offering of sorts; an attempt to give him something in return for what she had taken without asking…without thought, really. He understood it. He understood Abby better than she knew. Connor leaned back on the bed against the pillows and pulled Abby down with him. She rested her head in the crook of his arm and continued, as if allowing Connor to hold her in his arms was the most natural thing in the world for them. He wanted it to be.

"We didn't have other family to take us in…we went to foster families. We stayed together though…but some of them…they were not good. Some of them were bad…violent. Some people should never be around kids." Abby explained.

Connor squeezed her shoulders gently. "You don't have to…"

"Shh. Let me finish." Abby argued, but there was no real recrimination.

"A couple of times they tried to separate us, but I always ran away when they did. They had a hard time of it, finding families that would take us both. Jack was…troubled, and I suppose I was, too. Bad temper…I broke things." She related.

Connor traced small circles on her shoulder as she told him about her life…he stayed silent, although he wanted to tell her to stop. She was right; some people should never be around kids. Actually, it was more along the lines of that some people should be killed for laying hands on children. Connor would volunteer to do the killing. Her story woke something primal and protective in him. He _knew_ he could kill anyone that hurt Abby. He knew it. He felt the tension in her body as she worked out what she was going to divulge next. He got the feeling that she hadn't talked about this before, maybe not with anyone.

"I think that's why I…" She paused.

She turned to look at him and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. She opened her mouth to speak again but nothing came out. She just reached up and brushed her fingers over his bruised face, and then his lip where it was still slightly puffy and swollen.

"…did this." She finished, her voice breaking.

Connor grabbed her hand, stilling it. He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed them. He would have never dared this before…any of it. Something between them had shifted, realigned…and she had said she loved him. Well, she said she was falling in love with him, but it was more than he had ever hoped.

He searched for something to say, but it was not his strength. He usually ruined things when he opened his mouth, and he never seemed to know when to keep it shut. He had to try, before Abby pushed him away thinking she could never be with him. He knew Abby, and he knew that's where her thoughts were leading her now.

"I let you hit me, Abby. I didn't stop you." He said, finally.

"Connor, that doesn't make it right." She argued.

He sighed. He was rubbish at this.

"Have you ever struck an animal?" He asked softly.

"No." She whispered.

"A child?" He asked.

"Oh god, no." She answered, her voice stronger.

"Anyone besides me?" He asked gently.

"Jack…once." She admitted.

"Did you hurt him?" He asked carefully.

"No…I was only ten." She answered.

He smiled. "I don't think that counts."

Her brow wrinkled. "Then no...but…"

"I could have stopped you Abby." He asserted.

"You shouldn't have to." She argued.

He nodded, conceding her point. "Perhaps not."

How could he explain it? That he knew that if she didn't hit him she would direct it inward? That he had almost had a neighboring room with his mum because of what he had done to himself out of grief and rage? How could he explain it to her; that she wasn't like that? She wasn't going to turn into one of the monsters that had raised her and her brother just because she lost control. She wouldn't have done that to anyone else but Connor, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that...but he knew it was better than what she would have done to herself.

"Are you planning to do it again?" He asked, finally.

"No." She answered immediately.

He pulled her down gently, and she settled back down on his chest.

He told her his story, every part of it. It hurt, the telling of it…but it felt good in a way. It loosened something inside of him to share the story with Abby. She knew the pain intimately…the guilt…the helpless rage. She listened to him silently, paying him the same respect he had shown for her. He paused as his shirt grew damp under her head. She was crying for him?

He kissed her hair and told her it was alright, it was long ago and she shouldn't cry for him.

No one had ever cried for him before. He pulled out the ring threaded onto a leather cord that he always wore around his neck, watching as the metal caught the light.

"This was Dad's. Mum can't…she can't bear to look at it so she gave it to me. She can't bear to look at me either…it upsets her. I stopped trying to visit. I love her, but…she's gone, you know? She's not in there anymore; she's just existing. I think it's 'cause she bottled it all up when they died. She didn't even cry. I found her, the first time she tried to kill herself. The next time they took me away. The third time they took her away." He finished.

"I'm sorry." Abby whispered.

He shrugged. He didn't want to lie and say it was alright, because it wasn't…but lying here with Abby soothed the sting of it. He'd told her his story to help her, but it had probably helped him more. All he knew was at this moment, lying here with Abby, he felt peaceful.

She began tracing her hand across his chest. He felt the warmth through the thin t-shirt and relaxed into Abby's touch. She trailed her hand lower, over his stomach and suddenly he wasn't so relaxed. His breathing hitched, his arm tightened around Abby convulsively. She made a startled squeak in reaction.

"Sorry." He rasped, his voice coming out lower and rougher than he intended.

She rolled so she was facing him. She licked her lips; he stared, fascinated.

"Don't be." She replied, her voice just as low and raspy as his had been.

When she lowered her mouth to his this time, there was no hesitation and no fear. She gave her heart into Connor's keeping, secure that he would keep it safe. He kissed her back with a fierceness that belied his sweet nature and tender soul…he wanted…he _needed_ her with an intensity that scared him. He broke away and pressed his forehead to hers and tried to breathe.

"I love you, Connor." She murmured.

His eyes flew open. She loved him? She did?

"You love me?" He had to ask.

"Yes." She answered softly.

He swallowed. It was hard to just say it, but he needed to. To say it into the silence of the room, not shouting at her, not thinking she was about to die…

"I love you more than anything Abby." He whispered.

She smiled and kissed him again…there would be no more breaking away. Their bodies said what their hearts had known for a long time.

END

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A/N: Sooo…I will be doing a Missing Reel for this one (The M-rated chapter 4). *Update* It's called 'Let Me Love You' and is lemon flavored and an M rating. Please read? (if that's your thing...)

Oh, and new update... I'm doing this story from Abby's point of view. I think it reads very differently from her end. Called "He Is Here," and I hope you read it. :)

**You know, I wish you could set the option to not filter the fics by default to a T rating. Annoying.**

**I hope you liked this…if so please do review? Feed my poor muse? Make her fat and prolific? **

(Side note, I recommend the glorious iEvenstarEstel and her current Primeval fic Le Belle Le Beau….et al. (AND it has a couple of lovely smutty cut scenes published as M fics…*grins*)


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